


Stand by me, always

by RumseyRum



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-04-21 08:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumseyRum/pseuds/RumseyRum
Summary: Anduin meets a fellow prince from a neighboring kingdom and is immediately betrothed to him.
Relationships: Wrathion & Anduin Wrynn, Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 71
Collections: World of Warcraft Gift Exchange 2019





	Stand by me, always

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarMagister](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarMagister/gifts).

> A longer than expected Arranged Marriage AU for the 2019 Winter's Veil Gift Exchange. Enjoy!

“Master Anduin, which one will you choose?” Wyll held one formal jacket, spread between his arms in display. A jacket with the colors of Stormwind, gilded piping along the edges and a formal mantle and shoulders. The other lay flat on the bed, somewhat shorter in length, white with blue and golden accents.

Anduin did not like disrespecting Wyll, but it was hard to look at him at the moment. An ominous mood was settling over him with each passing hour. He wondered if he had it in him to disguise his anxiety.

“Prince Anduin.” Wyll cleared his throat. Anduin raised his sights to Wyll and found him very weary. “Perhaps we can continue this another time.” Anduin watched him fold his clothes as he tidied the rest of his room, made chaotic by the preparations. The prince mouthed a quiet apology and was met with a tiny smile from his servant.

“I’m sorry Wyll, I prefer the first one.” Anduin made the gesture to look at the jacket Wyll had just folded, except he was met with his servant’s confused face. “Ah, the blue one.”

“An excellent choice, Sire.” Wyll quickly folded the white jacket, taking it with him as he went to exit the room. “Dinner with our guests will be served in thirty minutes.” 

Once he was left alone, Anduin went to his bed, letting his body fall back first onto his bed, his blonde hair fanning over the bedsheets slightly, dreading tonight’s dinner. He was already acquainted with Lord Neltharion from the kingdom of Blackrock Mountain when he was a boy, but he never met their children: Onyxia, Nefarian and Wrathion. They would all be present tonight at the festivities. His father, King Varian, mentioned he had an important decision to make after meeting with them, something that would affect the future of Stormwind.

Anduin took another long sigh and pushed himself up from his bed, he took the jacket and carefully undid the golden buttons. Lord Neltharion was wise, powerful but also ruthless, cunning and detached. Anduin expected his children to be similar. Dragons weren’t known for their benevolence, especially the black flight. They were a very dominant people who prized power and influence above all else. His father, King Varian was always quick to go to war with anyone that threatened the safety of Stormwind, but he always thought twice when it came to clashes with the black. Tonight would be the crowning achievement of diplomacy that Stormwind hoped for to stabilize the nearby threats to it. 

After taking one last look in the mirror, he went outside his room. As soon as he walked through the doorway, he noticed his bad leg aching more than usual, thankfully he managed not to limp today. He entered through the open double doors of the dining hall, finding his father and a few of the High King’s officials, accompanied by the visiting party. 

Neltharion was there, austere and regal as always. He appeared now as a human, with chestnut skin, a strong jaw and nose that reflected on his stoic appearance. Beside him a woman with long dark hair and striking red eyes, she was the first to notice him. Her skin was the lightest of Neltharion’s retinue, and she held herself with dignity and confidence. 

The youngest of the group, which he assumed was Prince Wrathion, was as dressed up as his father. Perhaps more. His dark curly hair went almost past his shoulders, and he wore two golden hoops. Anduin made sure to keep his eyes away from Wrathion’s long neckline, and noted how good looking he was, perhaps too much, and how he wasn’t afraid to flaunt this with his choice of clothing.. 

Nefarian was the eldest, very similar to Wrathion. His clothing was less flamboyant, less revealing, but equally regal, except for his crown of magical flame. His beard was longer and fuller than Wrathion’s and his hair slightly shorter and equally shiny. He was the tallest of the three, second to their father.

"So this is Varian's son." Onyxia spoke up, presenting her hand for the young Stormwind Prince to take. Anduin took it as she gave a slight curtsey. "I've heard so much about you." She turned and mused to Varian on how different Anduin seemed from his father, who in turn introduced him to each of them formally. 

As Anduin managed to reach Wrathion, who was last, his diplomatic instincts told him Wrathion was having a hard time staying agreeable , despite the flowery introduction. As soon as he found himself within Wrathion’s field of vision, the other prince’s eyes went cold and narrow.

"It's a pleasure, Prince Anduin." Wrathion used an even tone to address him. 

"The pleasure is all mine, Prince Wrathion. I'm looking forward to this evening. I have so many questions about your Blackrock mountain that I'm hoping you can answer." Anduin was the picture of grace. Something was bothering Wrathion, that much was apparent. The party began to move towards the banquet room, it was the norm to share a meal before any proceedings would begin.

"Yes, I'm sure you'd be interested in that." Wrathion's eyes looked away. His reaction made Anduin's cheeks burn and wonder what exactly was bothering him. After they sat in the banquet hall, he proceeded to engage Neltharion's youngest son and got nowhere with him. Wrathion would answer with a quip aimed to jab.

“How are you liking Stormwind?” 

“It’s terribly dull and provincial, and the fields outside smell like manure.”

There was a small quartet of musicians providing entertainment. Wrathion held his sights somewhere distant to the middle of the hall as the guests dined at a head table with Varian and Neltharion at the hosting seats. Anduin had an easy time getting along with anyone his age, except the young Prince from far away. He found the frustration oddly insurmountable. 

Almost at dinner’s end, King Varian stood up to make an announcement. He spoke of the new alliance both Kingdoms had made, how trade routes would be reestablished and the beginning of a new era where dragons and dwarves would establish finally achieve stability by joining forces with humans and elves with a sacred union.

"… With the marriage of my son Prince Anduin to Prince Wrathion, son of Neltharion the Wise…"

Anduin almost dropped his dessert fork. Varian and Wyll had been speaking to him distantly since he was a child over the possibility of getting betrothed. He never imagined it would be like this, and to another Prince. Anduin kept his composure long enough to peek at Wrathion, who appeared calm and collected. His blue eyes darted around the room as he stayed silent, recalling every recent interaction he had with his father and coming to the grim realization that he was never consulted on his preference. Despite knowing what his duties were, it still felt as some sort of betrayal. That his father would prefer not to hear his disagreement, even if he had to walk right over it and make the decision to marry him off anyway.

As Anduin smiled while the hall filled with clapping and cheers, he felt rather empty. Wrathion never stopped to say a word to him afterwards, not even after the guests began to retire. Anduin used the chance to excuse himself, walked to where his father and Neltharion sat, and bowed respectfully before leaving the evening's celebrations for good.

* * *

The next day, after he woke with much difficulty, he noted how tired he was in the mirror. He had slept very few hours the night prior, which showed in the small creases that had formed underneath his eyes. Anduin figured a bath would make him feel better, Wyll always mentioned it was something his mother used to say. Thoughts of her, although hard to remember, brought him some comfort. He bathed, changed and headed down to the dinner hall for breakfast.

Halfway there, he felt the same pang as last night. He had very little wish to speak to his father at the moment, perhaps a bout of walking prayer in the gardens would set his head straight, so he turned a corner and made that his new destination. He walked through the arch into the green path, looking down morosely at his feet as they moved over the grey stepping stones. Anduin doubted the scenery around him would bring him any peace as he stopped by his favorite bench, hoping that the slight smell of hyacinth would distract him. He sat on the familiar to contemplate for a moment, and soon after he was no longer alone. He saw Wrathion making his way towards him.

"Don't stand." Wrathion held up his hand, preventing Anduin from rising. "I wanted to speak to you last night, but I wasn’t in the right mindset for it. My wish is for this arrangement to be… amicable." 

"You thought I knew." Anduin responded, Wrathion's reassurance gave him some relief, despite not totally waving away how unnerving it all felt. "And thank you. The announcement came as a surprise to me. I’ve always known I’d be betrothed, but I never imagined-"

“You’d wed a dragon?” Wrathion ventured a small smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I never wanted to marry a human at all, so the sentiment is shared.”

“I see. The sentiment is not shared. I just don’t know enough about you. Well, I know everything that has been written about your kind, but there’s nothing like learning from someone in the flesh.” Anduin realized he was rambling, his hands gripping the edges of the bench where he sat. “It’s comforting, despite everything, that an arrangement was made instead of us becoming enemies.”

“Peace or war, it doesn’t make a difference." The dragon prince paused and arched a brow as if he had come to a conclusion. "Marriage between two men in our kingdom is not as odd as it is here in Stormwind. If it helps, your father presented every other option. And if you're worried about heirs, there is a way with our kind."

"What about Onyxia?" Anduin asked after clearing his throat, he didn't want to contemplate the part of the agreement that mentioned heirs at the moment.

"Onyxia is promised to another." Wrathion narrowed his eyes slightly, yet made a motion with his hand as if waving away the thought. "Trust me, you’re better off with me. Besides, it's done."

“We’re out of options and there is nothing left to do, is what you mean.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, before Wrathion moved to sit on the other end of the bench.

"So, what happens now?" Anduin rubbed the back of his neck, as he shot another tentative glance at Wrathion's exquisite getup. He wore a beige jacket, elaborate pauldrons and billowed pants that tucked inside his boots. He noticed how his eyes were drawn around in a line of dark paint. He didn’t want to assume Wrathion did this for him, it was just his usual way of presenting himself. Graceful, handsome and exquisite. 

"I want this to be amicable, that is all." Wrathion stood, running palms over his front to straighten his jacket. "I'll see you at breakfast."

* * *

When Anduin entered the breakfast hall, he found Wrathion sitting at the head table surrounded by his siblings. They smiled as they whispered in amusement, yet Wrathion didn’t seem to want to participate in their mirth. He wore an undisguised frown through his sibling’s dignified chuckling.

Anduin neared the table and was met with Nefarian’s dazzling smile as he looked down to them. "Speak of the devil. Good morning, Prince Anduin. I am told you prefer books to practicing the sword, unlike your father. I hope you don’t mind we were speaking of you just now."

"Oh, of course not.” Anduin took a chair next to Onyxia, at the left of the group. “And, yes. I suffered an injury long ago outside of the castle, it has been difficult for me to pick up any sort of martial ability." Anduin replied as cordially as possible. “Leaves a lot of time for magical studies.” 

"Magical studies? How impressive." Onyxia joined the conversation, leaning sinuously against the chair arm on Anduin’s side.

"I’m interested in the healing arts, there’s always a great need for them here." Anduin replied. Onyxia's eyes beamed. It all seemed too much for Wrathion, as he suddenly rose, his chair screeched before he excused himself.

"I'm done with breakfast. Brother, sister, Anduin." He didn't supply a glance to them as he walked briskly to the direction of the castle's visitor wing.

"Please excuse our little brother, it seems the weather has been disagreeable for him." Nefarian turned to Anduin. His countenance revealing nothing of the mirth Anduin met with at first. “Or perhaps he’s still arguing with father.”

"Prince Wrathion was always quite the dreamer.” Onyxia’s smile seemed hollow to Anduin as she explained further. “A few years ago it was his dream to travel and explore the world, yet duty catches up to us all."

"Yes, it does." Anduin agreed, ruefully. He wondered if he needed to find more humor in his situation. Wrathion was undoubtedly taking it much worse. Regardless, getting to know Wrathion’s siblings seemed appropriate, he made a note to find him after the day’s activities quieted down. 

* * *

Being with Wrathion was impossible. No, it was possible to endure a few minutes in his presence. He was attractive, his clothes were made of an elaborate finery and were interesting to look at when he was glancing away. His mannerisms were practiced, flourished. A picture of regality. If Anduin had to put a finger on what bothered him, it was his arrogance. He could be condescending to his servants and came across as knowing it all to whoever showed any kind of expertise around him and had the knowledge and wit to back it up. He delighted in conversations because he always dissected and dismantled every argument that went against his opinions, and he wasn’t kind at all unless he wanted something. He’d turn up his charm ten-fold, but after a few times in his presence Anduin began to perceive that it was all a front.

Regardless, Anduin enjoyed Wrathion’s charms, but he knew enough from dealing with the nobility that Wrathion grew up pampered, with the notion that he was special and so above it all. He would have questioned why his father had agreed to marry him off to someone like that, if he wasn’t aware of Varian’s increased worries about Stormwind’s defenses against the gnoll camps and the encroaching orc invasions from the east and west. In truth, Stormwind needed more allies than the distant kingdoms of Ashenvale and Silvermoon. And he would gladly swallow his complaints for the good of his people. That was Anduin’s only real responsibility, one that he intended to take seriously. 

Anduin wrote a note and had it sent to the Black Prince asking him to meet Anduin in the gardens a few hours before supper. He was determined to mould their brittle relationship into something where they could at least endure each other. He wanted for them to converse agreeably without Wrathion stating something and then storming off, he did this often when regarding Anduin. Always keeping him at arm’s length. 

Wrathion walked up to the sitting table in the gardens, the only place where they had some semblance of privacy. His expression was neutral, until he caught sight of what Anduin had brought with him. A hexagonal board and several game pieces made of smooth stones, half of them were white, the other black. 

“Prince Wrathion, I was hoping you’d join me for a game.” Anduin’s voice sounded hopeful.

“A game? Aren’t we a bit too old?” Wrathion tilted his head to the side. His voice expressed disinterest yet he couldn’t resist eyeing the well crafted pieces that Anduin began setting up on the stone table. 

“My father brought this to me from one of his campaigns. It’s a pandaren board game. Jihui.” Wrathion sat down across from Anduin observing the setup curiously. “In Pandaria they say it hones one’s their intelligence and… well, I just find it suits my play style.” 

“I doubt I’ll enjoy it, but seeing as we’ll spend the rest of our lives together, I should humor you once in a while.” Wrathion was poking fun at him. Anduin rolled his eyes.

“Fine. This is how it’s played.” 

* * *

Months had passed by after the marriage ceremony, his cold relationship with Wrathion had blossomed into friendship. Getting to know the youngest son of Deathwing, to truly know him, proved to be a challenge. Wrathion had the habit of putting on airs even when Anduin felt relaxed enough to let his guard down. It was telling that Wrathion still had reservations about trusting his royal spouse. Yet Anduin persisted. He introduced Wrathion to some games he played when he was too sick to venture outside, and agreed to play with him. Wrathion either humored him or was genuinely interested in spending time with him. 

“Ha, another weak move.” Wrathion gloated after Anduin’s latest move. “It seems today’s victory will belong to me.”

"Not so fast. Not everything that appears as weakness is so." Anduin retorted. "Besides, kindness and mercy are good moves themselves."

"You cannot achieve peace with kindness and mercy. My father-" Wrathion suddenly quieted.

"What about your father?" Anduin straightened in his chair and looked directly to his companion. 

"My father, Neltharion the Wise," Wrathion slathered unneeded emphasis on the adjective, something akin to a sneer, "thinks that we can achieve peace by uniting all the Kingdoms. And he's right, in a way. To turn the weak into the strong, by assimilation. This is his doing."

"My father prevented unnecessary bloodshed with his decision. And it pains me that you disagree with him." Anduin certainly felt slighted, but only second to his desire to set Wrathion straight.

"You think me misguided, but that shows how naïve you are, dear Prince." 

"My father's solution worked, did it not? He's a warrior, he could have gone into battle with your Kingdom. Yet you imply a better way to achieve peace is to attempt to crush us under your empire’s heel. I find that the most honorable solution to any conflict would be to avoid others getting hurt in the process as much as possible. People can always solve problems if they tackle them together."

"It’s your move." Wrathion had enough of the subject. It was clear they wouldn’t reach a consensus now. Anduin had no choice but to lighten the mood.

"You know, I’ve never left Stormwind. I keep dreaming of travelling the world, explore every corner of it. It doesn't do me any favors to just study, if I haven’t seen half of it with my own eyes." Anduin peered from his game to the turbaned Prince in front of him. It was delightful to see his facade change slightly once one of his interests were mentioned.

"What? You've never been to the dunes of the Tanaris?” Anduin shook his head in response. “The forests of Ashenvale?" Wrathion leaned back in indignant shock. Anduin noted how his painted eyes had a most pleasing shape when Wrathion widened them with unguarded emotion.

"No, I've been too infirm to leave Stormwind for most of my life." Anduin supplied, and began to focus on his next move. He was beginning to see where his soft spots lay. 

"Nonsense. We'll have to remedy this." Wrathion sat up straight, folding his arms together in pause, as if allowing a plan to form. Anduin thought it made him look wise beyond his years. Come to think of it, Wrathion had many such poses that made him appear more adult where in the end, he was as young as Anduin was. The sort of learned maturity that came with being the son of a King, he could relate much to it.

“How?” Anduin moved his piece close to where Wrathion had just made his move. 

“I guess we’ll have to see then, won’t we?” The corner of Wrathion’s dark lips curved upwards and Anduin answered him with a smile. 

* * *

Neltharion extended an invitation to Anduin to visit their castle inside Blackrock Mountain. Anduin was accompanied by a small group of attendants to traverse the mountains into the jagged terrain that was the Searing Gorge. His people would find it almost unlivable, but the Dark Iron dwarves made themselves at home, unlike their cousins from the north that would rather live in dormant volcanoes. The inhabitants there didn’t mind the constant dangers of active fissures around them, they seemed almost immune to the occasional spray of melting rock and sand. Once they reached the first gate, an elite group of dwarves guided them safely up the passages where they’d find the conclave of dragons that ruled them.

A latent fear set in Anduin’s chest as they passed through the heavily guarded double doors into a large hall, full of people, movement, voices and sounds. The activity beyond the main city of Blackrock, was astonishing. A colorful bazaar covered the streets, walled by buildings of glittering volcanic rock, sprinkled by lamp lit windows. Dwarves and dragons in human guise walked the streets that were as busy as Stormwind’s market on a bright Sunday. Their clothing strange and foreign, though it occurred to Anduin that it was his turn to become the stranger among the many, as their eyes turned to look at him and his companions, surrounded by Lord Neltharion’s elite guard. 

Wrathion and Onyxia waited for them at the steps of the royal castle. Wrathion expected him, folded arms and lips forming a tight line. Anduin wondered before his arrival if encountering Wrathion in his domain would soften their interactions a bit more. Onyxia on the other hand was the same picture of grace and confidence when Anduin had met her back in Stormwind.

Wrathion descended a few stairs to meet him and held out his hand for Anduin as he dismounted his horse. Anduin took his cane from the saddle and easily made it up the rest of the way. Wrathion thanked him for making it out this way and very soon Anduin was headed to the guest chambers, noting along the way how different the structures around him were. Neltharion’s court was all but a very well maintained dragon’s hoard, full of rich draperies and opulent columns and finery in display. Quite different from the rest of the mountain city. 

This time, Wrathion took his time as Anduin had done while they were at Stormwind to show him around the castle. Besides opulent appearances, the servants there seemed submissive, almost fearful. And the dragons in human guise were often haughty at best, authoritative at worst.

After dinner, when everyone had retired. Anduin sought to return to the terrace that overlooked the grim, smoky view at the side of the mountain. The heat and travel had drained him of energy, yet his nerves kept him alert, on edge from being somewhere new. It was a while since had been so far away from home.

He walked steadily towards the stone bannisters, yet somewhere along the way his cane became stuck on a chipped tile and his body was suddenly on its way down. He was caught at the last moment by a strong grip on his upper arm. And he turned to see Wrathion on his side, keeping him from falling.

“Are you alright?” Wrathion inquired with a look of concern.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. Just worn out from the journey.” Anduin managed to smile, despite the exhaustion.

“If my father weren’t so adamant that you visit, we would have stayed in Stormwind from now on. Traditions are silly.” Wrathion led Anduin to the edge of the terrace, the ashen gorge in full view. “Father makes you and King Varian jump through so many hoops. If I had my way, I’d level the ground.” 

“Very kind words coming from you,” Anduin smiled, “despite what you’ve said on weakness before.” 

“Don’t think you’re rubbing off on me just yet.” Wrathion meant to tease, but a solemn silence accompanied them for a moment. The wedding was only a few months ago, but they had never done anything to consummate it. A solely political affair to appease both their subjects. Not the happy affair Anduin imagined when he was younger.

After a few stale words, Wrathion accompanied Anduin to his chamber and said their farewells for the evening. He never asked to join him in the chamber which made Anduin feel strange. It was never asked or explicitly expected of him to consumate his marriage, and he questioned himself often if he was capable of it if Wrathion ever decided to ask. 

The following days were full of lavish celebrations, and official briefings, accompanied with the lingering feeling of boredom woven through each event. Until one evening, when Anduin heard a knock on his door he wasn’t expecting. As he opened it there stood Wrathion, dressed in muted clothing that looked almost civilian.

“Get dressed. We’re going sightseeing.” Wrathion pulled at a scarf to hide the bottom of his face. 

“Where are we going?” Anduin complied dumbfoundedly. “Is this another black dragon ritual?”

“No, nothing like that. You said you wanted to see the wonders of the world, didn’t you? This is our chance. Shadowforge City is one such wonder you need to explore.” As generous as Wrathion was being, he seemed impatient. Throwing around quick glances down the hall that gave Anduin the impression that no one knew what he was up to. 

Soon, they sneaked out of the castle and into the dwarven part of the city. He supplied Anduin with a dark hooded cloak to hide his golden hair, and soon they were weaving in and out of the city streets. Stopping by food carts, and browsing the wares of any shopfront that caught their eyes. The Dark Iron not only were excellent miners, but their craftsmanship was unequalled. Jewels and stone ware were well known, but the quality of their weapons was a pleasant surprise Anduin didn’t know to expect. Every smithy displayed many pieces of armor and weapons. Too many, Anduin noted while they stood inside a particular weapons shop.

“My father is arming the city.” Wrathion spoke up once as if guessing his thoughts. “I thought you should know, only you and you alone.” 

Anduin nodded, whatever Wrathion made him privy to he suspected he wasn’t supposed to know. Worry entrenched itself in his heart. 

They tasted dark iron manafruit in the markets and ended up in a tavern called the Grim Guzzler. The patrons were jovial and the ale plenty, and soon Wrathion and Anduin held tankards of their own as they occupied a corner table.

Anduin was beginning to feel the warmth of the spicy ale as a fight broke out near them. Two of the patrons began shouting and exchanging blows. Anduin exchanged looks with Wrathion, imagining the worst. The bartender made his way towards the commotion with a boomstick, until Wrathion stood and headed towards the fight as well. Anduin’s heart fluttered with panic. He didn’t want the night to end on such a sour note. 

“No, wait-” Anduin stood to prevent whatever chaos was promised, yet in mere seconds Wrathion had disabled both brawlers by merely touching the back of their necks as he deftly avoided their swings. His spell charmed the two dark irons to sleep as they fell backwards to the group with independent thuds. The bartender nodded at Wrathion in a kind of gruff thanks and made his way towards the other two, dragging their sleeping bodies by their collars and onto the street.

“How? What happened?” Anduin had to ask as Wrathion sat casually in front of him once more. Wrathion offered an enigmatic smile. 

“They should be alright. I would never do anything to hurt them. The patron might have done them a bit worse by my calculations.” Wrathion took a sip of his ale as he regarded Anduin curiously. “Were you worried?”

“N-no. I mean, yes! This could have gone so much worse.” Anduin resumed sitting on his chair, he grabbed his drink but no longer nursed it, transfixed by what had just happened.

“I’ve been taking a bit of your advice. Not causing trouble especially when it’s not needed. Assessing the situation and taking action is still good, yes? But as you say often: no one needs to be hurt in the process.” 

“I’m glad I’m rubbing off on you.” Anduin smiled sheepishly. He adjusted his position in his seat and accidentally knocked his knees with Wrathion, who in turn widened his eyes and bumped back. Anduin wasn’t sure if it was the ale, but he let the burning rush seep from his chest all the way up to his cheeks while they smiled warmly at each other.

* * *

Their larks increased in frequency the longer Anduin stayed in Shadowforge City. Upon their latest return, the moment Anduin lagged behind Wrathion as they walked up the stairs to his quarters. He almost froze mid-step the moment he felt Wrathion’s arm hook into his, gathering the courage to still his beating heart. He heard him joke and his own laughter answered, echoing through the halls.

As they reached the guest room, they unlaced their arms slowly, Anduin could feel the rustling of their shirt fabric and the dim sound of their breathing. For a split second he could see Wrathion’s smoky breath in the twilight of the cavern halls. He smiled and hoped that what was stirring inside him Wrathion felt too.

As he said his goodbye, a comfortable routine that was established, he felt Wrathion tug at his sleeve, pulling him closer. He heard Wrathion take a long breath, his wit dulled and his sight swam over the dragon prince’s dark silhouette. Strong arms circled his waist as their foreheads almost touched, marked by the sound of heavy breathing. A moment longer and Wrathion would have kissed him, a moment that would be stretched out into the unknown if it weren’t for the sound of nearing footsteps and the shape of Onyxia casting a shadow over them. 

Wrathion quickly disentangled himself from Anduin, while Anduin in turn ran a hand over his shirt. As the princess approached, she cleared her throat. 

“Prince Wrathion,” Andun felt the edge in her voice, “a moment if you will. If you’ll excuse us Prince Anduin.”

“Thank you Wrathion, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Wrathion shot a glance back to him, as Anduin nodded him forward. 

Anduini closed the door after watching them turn down the hall. He already missed Wrathion’s warm, red eyes and how differently they regarded him since the day they met. Wishing to burst out into the hallway again to find him and wrestle him from Onyxia and her odd interruption. 

It felt like an eternity had passed as he leaned his back against the door, facing his room, hiis breath ragged and his cheeks impossibly warm. Anduin wanted to go back and argued with himself until he deduced he’d be satisfied by just knocking on his door. Onyxia’s muffled voice interrupted his thoughts as he came to the conclusion that they were still there, just around the corner. His curiosity flared up and without dwelling on the consequences, he mouthed a spell and silenced the door as it opened, as well as his steps and wandered off into the dark hallway, edging along the side as to not cast any shadows. 

“You’re getting attached to the Wrynn boy-” Onyxia’s words were finally discernible as he got close enough.

“It doesn’t matter. This war is ridiculous, I informed Father I wouldn’t go through with it after what I know and my decision still stands.” 

“You’ll regret going against his wishes, whelp.” Anduin had enough. The pieces were starting to fit together and the dread set in, with the slight relief of knowing Wrathion was truly on his side.

Anduin then hurried back to his room, he needed to be ready to leave in the morning. He contemplated what it all meant for Stormwind the next few days and nights, and hardly caught any sleep at all.

* * *

The last draconic ritual began after Anduin and Wrathion returned to Stormwind. It consisted of a small gathering in the palace gardens, with wine, food and plenty of nothing to do according to Wrathion. Anduin began to look for Wrathion who had been weaving in and out of the celebration. He felt oddly jilted at his spotty attendance and decided to procure himself a glass of wine from one of the servants. 

As soon as he did, Wrathion seemingly appeared out of nowhere and approached him, with a look that bordered on worry. 

“Anduin, there’s something you need to know.” Wrathion began, “please don’t panic.”

Anuin raised the glass to his lips but Wrathion was quick to grab it from his hands. 

“Wrathion! What-”

“Tell me you haven’t drank from that.” 

“I have. Is something the matter?” Anduin came into realization when the world around him became hard to focus on and his blood felt like boiling and evaporating through his skin.

“Damned be Onyxia…” Anduin heard Wrathion say in the distance before his vision swam and became blurry. He felt a pair of strong arms raise and carry him and hoped with his heart that it was Wrathion. Wrathion with the long hair, tucked under his turban. His smoky, red eyes. The attractive gleam of his skin in the sun. 

He felt himself whisper a few things as they headed to his own room. As they entered the threshold of his bedroom, he knew no more.

* * *

The next morning Anduin woke with a headache and weak limbs. He found himself at the healer’s wing, any attempts to rise from his bed were met with heavy bouts of dizziness. A few moments later, Wrathion burst through the doors and quickly set himself at Anduin’s side.

A draenei healer felt Anduin’s forehead. “Your fever is gone Prince Anduin, we almost lost you. Thank the Light the Black Prince was able to bring me to you as quickly as he could.”

Anduin turned to look at Wrathion, his face set in relief. “Onyxia’s doing… I’m sorry, Anduin. This will never happen again. I swear it.” 

Anduin reached up with little strength he had to hold Wrathion’s hand, felt him close his grip with the other one. They sat still, comforting each other with their presence until Anduin was too tired to stay awake.

* * *

The next few days the palace scrambled, readying for war. Onyxia’s actions had pushed Wrathion to stay in Stormwind with the Prince for good. Varian begrudgingly allowed Wrathion to advise on the coming assault, only because he had saved his son. “It could be another one of their elaborate schemes,” Varian protested often in private to Anduin, but Anduin in turn could not allow the crown to ignore Wrathion’s valuable information on Blackrock and what it meant for the coming campaign. Besides, Anduin trusted him.

In a moment of respite, the two princes had been playing another bout of their preferred game and as the round came to a close, carefully packed up the pieces to continue the evening’s planning.

“I never had the chance to properly thank you, Wrathion.” Anduin meant it. It took great strength to be an individual, despite the legacy bestowed upon one’s shoulders. He would know this most of all, taking the chance to stand up for one’s values and have the strength to disagree even with those that meant well. “You risk much by allying yourself with us.”

“Of course, dear Prince.” Wrathion turned to face him, once again taking Anduin’s hand between his. “I disagreed with my father on this betrothal at first. I thought for sure a war might have been easier, that deception was just an unnecessary game. I’ve changed my mind since then, after coming to Stormwind. After getting to know you in earnest.”

“What did you expect?” Anduin couldn’t help but want to know. 

“I-I thought you weak.” It was clear Wrathion regretted his honesty, but committed to it nevertheless. “Someone with the mind to take charge, but no strength to back it up. I was wrong, Prince Anduin. Forgive me.” 

“It’s fine Wrathion, I trust you. Not just because your saved my life.” 

“Now what’s left is to face them. Nothing would make me happier than to stay at your side and fight them. Together.” 

“Together. Thank you for standing with me.“ Anduin replied.

They both stared at each other for a moment, the dynamic had slowly changed between them. Anduin noted distantly on the way they looked at each other, the way Wrathion’s eyes regarded him, he felt the warmth behind his gaze. Wrathion took a step forward, closing into Anduin’s space. He felt warm hands circle around his waist in support. 

As Wrathion leaned forward, Anduin closed his eyes and just felt. They felt their lips graze tentatively, and as they pressed them together, he felt Wrathion’s impossible warmth seep into his own. A taste of pleasant smoke, like a campfire, a rush as his pulse quickened. An odd pained feeling in his chest that was nothing but pleasurable. It was a different sensation that was wholly welcome. The reason he had been drawn in and sequestered by Wrathion in both body and mind. In that moment, Wrathion was no longer a dear friend but something more. Anduin began to know love.


End file.
